


Reflect

by archi



Series: By Grace, We Are Saved [15]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Sam gathers his thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-08
Updated: 2013-05-08
Packaged: 2017-12-10 19:33:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/789360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/archi/pseuds/archi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His bruising and soreness were clearing up steadily and every time he passed a mirror he thought he recognized and <i>liked</i> the person that looked back at him more and more.</p><p>Note: <b>This verse reads as one continuous story</b> Some sections overlap as told from different pov.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reflect

He was recovering - healing in a way he didn’t think possible. Sam Winchester felt, for the first time, whole. Or, you know, on his way to wholeness.

He’d always felt alone, cut off from the world around him. But now he experienced the sensation in a whole new light. He was _alone_. Turning the pages of the books and manuscripts in the Men of Letters’ library he knew that the blood running through his body to hands and fingers was healthy, just strings of pure human DNA. His mind was untainted. There was blissful relief in knowing that for once, for once in his life, he was just himself. His choices were unburdened by the weight of outside influence and he could not be swayed but by his own election.

A confidence and contentment lay like dew on his thoughts. Even as he worried and fretted over Dean there was a place in him that could not be touched by anybody but himself. He was the master of his own consciousness and damn, it felt good. His bruising and soreness were clearing up steadily and every time he passed a mirror he thought he recognized and _liked_ the person that looked back at him more and more.

He thought maybe now he understood Dean’s excitement, right after they moved to the bunker, in setting up his own room - in creating a space that was just his.

He couldn’t help smiling himself, surveying his thoughts and body and reflecting that this space was now his, and his alone to do with as he pleased.

However, contentement must periodically give way to concern.

Sam couldn’t say he was surprised that Dean had finally broken down. Honestly, he was surprised that it had taken so long. Surprised that Dean hadn’t felled the whole forest. But then again, maybe he would have if Sam hadn’t shown up.

He supposed Charlie was right. Dean and Cas both needed time to recover and process what had happened, but by the time he and Dean were coming back from the woods, he was ready to drive to Lawrence and get Cas himself.

Watching Dean - watching him suppress and push the hurt away and distract himself with Charlie’s company and playing nurse to Sam had hurt. A lot. Guilt at his own part in the deception itched uncomfortably as Dean moving carefully, purposefully around the bunker, each movement a direct and purposeful action or reaction - nothing accessory. Sam knew it was taking all he had to keep himself focused, from letting anything get through the cracks.

He was a bomb, the only question was when would he detonate, and how big a crater he would leave behind.

Sam didn’t know how it was possible to feel everything he did all at once. Guilt, relief, contentment all jockeying around for center stage. But it was sorrow that had taken the forefront in the woods last night, as Dean tugged at his lapels and tears dampened his collar. All at once Sam was reminded how very _human_ they all were, and how strong Dean tried to be because he’d never been given any other options and how ridiculous and unfair that was.

And then the self-loathing for doing this to his own brother, letting him mourn someone who was alive and only hours away. He gripped Dean tighter and resolved to talk to Charlie in the morning.

And after a while Dean’s body had stopped shaking and he’d pulled away without a word and walked back to the bunker, straight into his bedroom where he shut the door behind and didn’t emerge all the next day.

Before he went to bed Sam made a sandwich and filled a large glass with water, took them to Dean’s room and knocked hesitantly.

The following exchange had been somewhat less than stunning.

Now, in his own bed, holding one of the many books he’d brought from the library, he wondered what kind of shape Castiel was in. Bad enough to be in the hospital for a few days, to need painkillers and stitches. Charlie kept Sam updated while she was with him, though. Cas had been taking walks, drinking coffee, and didn’t seem to be struggling too much with the aspect of simple human tasks- showering and eating and the like. He’d asked about them - Sam and Dean - apparently, and was aware, in some vague way, what Dean was going through, and what Charlie and Sam were going through keeping Castiel’s secret.

He sighed. He didn’t know at what point Dean and Castiel would be ‘ready’ or what that even meant. But if it was so important he’d wait.


End file.
